


And You Kissed Me Like You Meant It (And I Knew That You Meant It)

by Miss_Voltage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bullying, First Kiss, Gay Panic, High School, M/M, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 09:01:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4781564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Voltage/pseuds/Miss_Voltage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr prompt: I wonder what Dean's first kiss with a boy was like? Was it good? Was he nice?<br/>Dean is about to drop out of high school when he confronts a group of bullies attacking another student. And this kid is all surprises, surprises Dean didn't know would become part of his world forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And You Kissed Me Like You Meant It (And I Knew That You Meant It)

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a tumblr post way back when that I saw wherein OP wondered what Dean's first kiss with a boy was like and if that boy had been good to him. As far as canon of the show, I fully believe that Dean Winchester is bi as fuck and so much more of that comes out when he grows attached to Castiel, but obviously he had that side to him before. This male character is in no way a gary stu nor is he intended to be based off of literally anyone (in fact, I made sure I wasn't drawing on any character in any series or even someone I knew). This is just Dean's first kiss. And I hope you like it and I realize its not Destiel or Wincest even though I ship both exclusively. But Dean's sexuality makes me incredibly curious and its something I intend to explore through more stories. Anyway, enjoy this! Please leave me a comment if you can because I would love to know your thoughts on Dean and his sexuality. And holy wow, I just realized I've been writing Supernatural for years upon years but never posted my own fic. YAY.

This was the worst time of day, knowing he couldn’t stay at school and pretend that was his life. He had to go home. If he didn’t go home soon, Sammy would be alone, and maybe their dad would be there, too. Not that they were living in a house, just some shitty motel that let them rent by the month. Even if it were a house, it wouldn’t be home. It would be closer to a home if it were just him and Sam.

Dean pushed up off the bleachers, heading across the football field. The school year was almost over but he’d already made his decision. He couldn’t do it anymore, play pretend that his life might be normal one day, that his dad would kill the fuck that killed his mom and everyone would turn out perfectly fine. He could make sure Sammy turned out a little better, though. If he quit school, he could throw himself into hunting and keep his dad away from Sam. Then Sam could focus on school and get the hell away from them, have an actual life maybe.

He was pretty good in school, too, not the star student that Sam was, but Dean wasn’t stupid. He did his homework during lunch. He paid attention in class and excelled. Still, he didn’t make friends. The only friend in the world he had was Sam, and he was going to do anything to give him the life he deserved.

There was a commotion over by the entrance to the field from the parking lot. Normally Dean wouldn’t care, would just walk right on by, like a shadow. He was pretty sure that most everyone in school didn’t even know his name.

But when he saw that kid hit the concrete wall face first, his backpack and notebooks all over the wet ground, he flipped. He wasn’t ever one to turn a blind eye to injustice, but he usually laid low as much as he could, not needing to draw attention. He just couldn’t with this kid, though. There were three huge guys, seniors probably, maybe athletes or something, shoving the kid all over. And the kid wasn’t even fighting back, some scrawny little thing, obviously old enough to be in high school but still even smaller than Dean.

He just couldn’t understand why the kid wasn’t even trying to fight, but Dean had always been a fighter, always escalating the situation. And this situation escalated very suddenly when the biggest guy punched the kid square in the mouth. The kid stumbled back, spitting blood on the ground as he tried to gather himself a bit.

He saw Dean first, looking at him with wide eyes. Dean gave the kid a fleeting glance, wondering why he looked even more scared, when he realized the kid thought Dean would hit him, too. Dean had been hit too many times, had felt that same look cover his own face, and he wasn’t going to let it happen.

Dean didn’t even confront the big guys. He just went for the biggest one and upper cut him straight into his jaw. The guy didn’t even see it coming, and even if he had, it wouldn’t had mattered. Most high school boys figured they could hold their own in a fight, but Dean’s secret life of hunting things much crueler and stronger than some fuckhead bullies made him better, quicker. 

The bigger guy swung at him, narrowly catching his shoulder, only to have Dean haul back and punch him straight in the nose. Everyone but Dean cringed at the sickening crunching noise it made as it broke. The kid, even the other two bullies, just watched, as the strange kid that no one talked to beat the ever living shit out of the football team’s left guard like he could do it all day, like he had some reason to protect the little shit he didn’t even know. Or maybe the guy was just crazy and looking for a fight.

A broken nose produced a lot of dark, gushing blood, and Dean had seen it enough times to recognize the bruising beginning to swell over the big guy’s eye socket. He was clutching his nose, and he didn’t so much run out of the field entrance, or curse Dean out, but the bullies had enough sense to leave. Obviously the weird kid was fucking nuts, and they weren’t going to die at the hands of some psycho over taunting a sophomore. 

The kid was standing against the wall, some of the blood from his split lip staining his gray shirt. Dean turned and looked at him, shrugging slightly. “You okay?” he asked almost non-chalantly as he started picking up the kid’s dirty notebooks and shoving them in his book bag. He looked up at the kid, giving him a questioning glance as he just stared with his mouth open before shaking himself out of it.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” He said quietly, taking his bag when it was offered. He was silent for a minute before finally righting himself, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and pinning Dean with a serious face. “You shouldn’t do that. You’re gonna get in a lot of shit for hurting Nate.”

Dean shrugged. “I can handle Nate. Didn’t even know the guy’s name until now, but I guess that’s good.” He smiled softly, trying to ease the kid but instead of seeming grateful, he seemed pissed. “Why would you want to get in a fight for me? You don’t even know me,” the kid protested, just not understanding. Why would anyone come to his defense, least of all some guy he didn’t know, some guy no one knew? It was like a shitty movie.

He watched as Dean looked off in the distance, chewing his lip. Dean didn’t talk to anyone at this school at all, even if it was the school he’d been at the longest, almost six months now. He couldn’t make friends. He had learned when he was younger that it hurt too much to lose them whenever they had to move again. But he felt like he owed this kid some piece of mind, a reason why he wasn’t a total loser.

“I’ve got a little brother. He’s skinny and nerdy like you, but a lot younger. No matter how old he gets though, I’d kill anyone that tried to do that to him. I’d go to Hell for him. I figure you matter that much to someone else, too.” He said it slowly and softly, because until he’d thought about it just now, he wasn’t sure of the exact reason he’d come to the kid’s defense.

“Your name’s Dean, right? You’re a junior?” The kid asked, watching Dean shove his hands in his pockets and nod.

“Dean, they were beating the shit out me cus I’m gay.”

Dean felt the shock and confusion on his face before he felt the actual emotions. He knew people got beat up for all kinds of shit that didn’t matter, but he’d never known anyone in his life who was gay, and he was pretty sure that while he was protecting this kid in some sort of brotherly way, his own brother was not gay as far as he knew.

He suddenly needed to know if this kid was okay, if this happened all the time. Was he safe at home? Did anyone else know? Dean didn’t know why he gave a shit, but he did, deeply. And maybe fifteen years from now he would realize that it was because no one ever wondered if he had been okay, if he had been abused at home and had to hide things and had no friends.

All the words were on the tip of his tongue when the other kid just smiled crookedly in a way that no one had ever looked at Dean really. He started to walk off before turning around, walking backwards, blood on his mouth and his clothes all messed up. “Don’t worry, Dean. I won’t tell anyone it was you. I’ll tell them someone dragged me out of hell,” he laughed, walking off. He was almost to the other side of the field’s tunnel, entering the parking lot when Dean finally yelled after him out of his stunned silence.

“Hey! What’s your name?”

“It’s Kyle. I’ll see you around,” he called behind himself.

 

When Dean got home and saw Sam sitting on their shared motel bed, diligently working on his homework. He smiled to himself. Sammy way here and he was safe. He had to protect and look out for Sammy, always. That was his only job in life, his only purpose. Killing evil shit came second. It looked like their dad wouldn’t be home that night, though who knew. Either way, Dean rummaged around, trying to figure out something to make them for dinner. Even if John did come back, he wasn’t going to eat with them.

Sam didn’t talk too much when he was busy with school, but Dean watched him as they ate bologna sandwiches. Watching Sam made him wonder more about Kyle. Kyle was at least three years older than Sam, probably fifteen, while Dean was sixteen. Maybe Kyle had his life figured out a little more, and he probably did if he already knew he was gay. What if it had been Sam, getting beat up by some douchebags for something so stupid, for being different?

“Heya, Sammy,” Dean spoke up. “Yeah?” Sam replied, not looking up from his history book until he realized Dean was waiting for him. “What?”

Dean chewed the inside of his lip, not wanting to offend Sam or worse, make him uncomfortable to a point where he felt he couldn’t talk to Dean. Neither of them had anyone else to talk to. He’d die if he made things harder for Sam.

“You know you can always talk to me, right? And that no matter what happens… whoever you grow up to be… I’ll still be your big brother, right? Just you and me.” He looked at Sam, holding his breath, his eyes pleading slightly.

Sam was a lot more perceptive than most twelve year olds, and he knew Dean was getting at something bigger than what he was saying so he just nodded slowly, waiting to see if Dean would continue.

“Sam… Do you… Do you like girls?” He asked awkwardly.

Sam pushed his book away and looked down for a minute too long in a way that made Dean terrified of his answer. He would love Sam if he was gay. He would love Sam no matter what. He just didn’t want the world to be so unkind to him when it had already burned him so much.

He watched as Sam dug the heels of his hands into his eyes and groaned, sighing heavily before going lax in his chair. “I wanted to ask. I’m sorry, Dean. It’s just… It’s embarrassing, you know? I don’t have any friends I can ask about this stuff.” Dean was about to speak up and tell Sam that whoever he was, it was more than okay when Sam continued. “So I guess we’re gonna have the talk and you’re gonna tell me about all the girls you’ve hooked up with, huh?”

Dean barked out a laugh. He had failed Sam in the wrong way. Sam was young and curious, but it was about sex and not sexual orientation. If Sam had any inclination that he wasn’t totally straight, he wasn’t aware of it yet, so Dean didn’t even mention it. Sam wanted to know about sex, with girls, and Dean was willing to provide. All of his knowledge was trial and error, stolen Playboys from the mini-mart with stories about wild nights. Sam deserved better than that.

“How about this? You can ask me anything you want to about that, any time. What do you want to know?” He smirked. He had never imagined this day would come that he’d have to give his little brother the talk, and he was more relieved than anything.

Sam leaned in curiously. “How old were you when you first kissed a girl?”

 

It was a Thursday and Dean was walking through the hall not too long after school had let out. He had gone to see his counselor, trying to get the paperwork so that he could legally drop out of school. Of course his dad would sign it. It meant Dean wouldn’t be “wasting” his time anymore and could get back to being useful on a hunt. That was all he was good for anyway.’’

He rounded the corner and his hunting instincts kicked in. He backed up, just sticking his nose over the corner to look at his prey. It was those fucking dickbags again. They were standing up against a locker, laughing and talking loudly. He was listening to their conversation so intently, trying to decide if he could go confront them into never touching anyone again or if he should just beat on one of them again, that he didn’t realize someone had snuck up behind him. 

Dean startled when he was pulled suddenly but didn’t make any noise as the supply room door opened and he was dragged in. Most of him expected to find claws around himself and a monster ready to devour him as he had been prepared for his whole life. But with a click, a small lightbulb overhead turned on and he blinked his eyes to see the kid he had saved last week.

He didn’t even question his involvement, immediately going into soldier mode. “Are you hiding in here? Were they after you again?” He asked in hushed tones. Kyle shook his head, laying that smirk on Dean again but not saying anything. Dean was trying to figure out what was going on, but what his brain was mostly stuck on was the way Kyle was looking at him. Now that his lip was healed and he wasn’t a mess, he looked taller, more confident, less like some skinny little nerd. He wasn’t much shorter than Dean, short dark brown hair all mussed up like he never brushed it. 

There was nothing remarkable about him except for the way he stared at Dean with that smirk. It was when he took a step forward in the small space that Dean realized how he knew that look: it was the same look he’d seen on a few girls’ faces.

He was trying to wrap his brain around what was happening, that a guy was looking at him like that, when Kyle closed the space between them and wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck, looking up at him. “What are you doing?” It was all Dean could get out, more with a tone of disbelief and actual confusion than accusation. As Kyle leaned in farther, his smirk evolved into a smile just a hair away from Dean’s lips. “Thanking you.”

Dean went rigid as lips pressed against his own and he stopped breathing. A boy was kissing him. Someone male. His own gender. A body like his own. It wasn’t something he knew. It wasn’t normal. And yet, had anything normal ever happened in his fucked up life? Dean waited for alarms to go off in his head, for himself to either feel sick or so very wrong, but nothing happened. He could only think that the lips against his own were rougher, and yet still so soft that he wanted to sink his teeth into the full bottom one.

He parted his lips slightly, just accepting as Kyle took the kiss further, now having gained some permission. It was only seconds of Kyle moving his lips before Dean started to move his own back, slowly being pulled into the kiss. It was like his first kiss all over again, like he didn’t know what he was doing with this mouth on his own. But it was still a kiss, and he was still curious, and he was suddenly realizing that he was very much wanting of this thing he hadn’t ever thought of.

It was when he felt Kyle’s soft tongue, slick with saliva, licking into the parted space of his lips, that things changed. Dean opened his mouth enough for their tongues to meet, and as soon as they did, a spark surged through him, something deep within him that unlocked something he hadn’t known. 

He pulled Kyle closer, being rough but still gentle, not forceful in any way. Dean slid one hand against his neck, the other grabbing his hip and keeping him as close as he could. He moaned deeply into Kyle’s mouth as he kissed him more fervently, a sound that was full of so much unbridled lust, a sound he didn’t know he was capable of making. It was then that Kyle began to devour his mouth, and Dean pulled him harder against his own body until he was up against the wall.

Kyle knew what he was doing, and while Dean had only had a few small sexual experiences himself, he had never been with someone so sure in their prowess, nevermind their skill. It was like Kyle knew what he was doing to him and that Dean loved it, loved the way he flicked his tongue at the end of every kiss and bit his bottom lip just off to the side, a feeling that clenched in Dean’s stomach.

It was different than those girls he had been with. That had been about exploring and desperately hoping that maybe they wouldn’t be so shy, maybe they might touch him in some way. This was different entirely. This wasn’t a hook up and it wasn’t kissing. It was pleasure, a thing he had imagined existed in the few bits of overly dramatic porn he’d caught on fuzzy cable in motels while Sammy was out. But he didn’t know it could feel like this. It was eroticism, not just touching and experiencing.

He could feel Kyle breathe and moan into his mouth, clearly enjoying it as much as Dean was. Dean had never been so passive with anyone. He didn’t know the words for it yet but enjoyed not being the aggressor, being the one that did as they were bidden. And Kyle had bid him to receive his reward for being a righteous man.

Kyle sucked his tongue, scraping his teeth along it and Dean moaned again into his mouth, both hands now clutching his hips and forcing them against his own harder. He couldn’t get enough of the feeling, of someone not afraid to touch him and be touched back, someone who made his toes curl with their sinful acts, someone who wanted him purely because he was good.

Dean let out a hard gasp, startling so badly that he jerked his head back against the wall painfully. But he wasn’t thinking about the pain. He was thinking about the hand that had somehow fit it’s way between their bodies and palmed over his cock so surely.

Kyle smiled against his lips as he slowly moved his hand, enjoying the way Dean couldn’t keep still or quiet. “Hey Dean?” He said softly, biting the other boy’s lip as he just hummed out a response that he was listening to anything that needed to be heard.

“I think you’re bi.”

 

Dean stared up at the ceiling, the weird “popcorn” cheap spackle shit providing endless small shadows for his eyes to follow as his mind wandered. The sound of Cas’ breathing next to him as he slept was the most comforting sound he had ever heard. Angels didn’t need sleep, and Cas had had his grace fully restored for some time now, but he hadn’t let go of some of the things he’d enjoyed while human. He liked to sleep, even if he didn’t dream, but mostly because he was allowed to feel at peace with Dean’s hot skin against his own after they had made love. Dean knew that while Cas was more powerful than he could even fathom, more powerful than he had been as a demon with the mark, Cas felt safe with him. Dean would die a thousand deaths for him.

But Cas wasn’t entirely on his mind. It was far too early on a Thursday morning, and he remembered someone else with dark hair and insistent lips. He loved Cas more than he could even understand himself, but there would always be a special place in his soul for the boy he had met twenty years ago. Kyle had changed so much for him. Nothing had really happened with them, just that one time they had hooked up in the supply closet of their high school that had turned his world upside down.

What Kyle did for him was not help him discover his sexuality. Kyle gave him hope. He had made Dean feel like maybe he was worthy of something, anything, whether it be life, love, or some mission bigger than what he had known. That little seed of hope had carried him through his whole life, and when he met Cas, the hope blossomed into acceptance. Cas made sure that Dean knew he was worthy, in every way. Cas taught Dean how to let himself be loved without the fear of losing that love.

He often wondered what had become of Kyle. He could ask Cas to find out, and Cas would understand, knowing without a doubt that Dean had eyes for no other. But part of him didn’t want to know. He wanted to keep that perfect memory of a few hours passed with another boy pressed against him and opening up his world, the first person in years who had cared about him enough to even remember his name past their time together.

John had made sure that Dean lived in Hell. Cas had pulled him from Hell in every way. But for the days in Dean’s existence, the time between John and Cas, Kyle had been the hope that he would be raised from perdition.

His role had begun with a soul he hadn’t known, one he had known he had to protect, for no reason other than it was right and he was good.

He was the Righteous Man.


End file.
